Since I’m a huge proponent of “doing interesting things because it’s fun”, I volunteered for the zombie game 2.8 Hours Later. I had to go to Zombie School and learn how to shuffle and groan convincingly, and then I was a zombie for one of the four nights they were in Edinburgh. My groaning made me sound like “zombie with bronchitis” so I switched to weird high-pitched intakes of breath, which were fun and didn’t strain my voice. And I shuffled, oh did I shuffle. Here’s what I originally looked like:

Then I swapped the army fatigues with another player for technical reasons and looked more normal, for versions of “normal” which involve fake blood spattered over my face.

I love immersive experiences, although I doubt I’ll be writing any “I am a zombie” poems any time soon (though you never know). To be honest, I am not a huge fan of the genre. But I did like dressing up and shuffling after people who, though they knew perfectly well I was NOT a zombie, were involved enough in the game to be scared when I appeared out of nowhere behind them, groaning.

And yes, I did go home on the bus looking like that, though somehow managed not to freak any mundanes in the process, or perhaps they were just used to that sort of thing on a bank holiday weekend.